


The Island

by SmallRedRobin13



Series: Florence Cousland, Maria Hawke and Dea Adaar [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 03:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallRedRobin13/pseuds/SmallRedRobin13
Summary: There was a place in Fenris’ mind, a place he wasn’t sure was a memory or a dream.





	The Island

There was a place in Fenris’ mind, a place he wasn’t sure was a memory or a dream. There was an island, with laughter, seashells and pure white sand. When things got bad, be it Danarius or loneliness, he’d close his eyes and imagine, to the point where he could almost feel the grains of sand between his toes and smell the sea air. But that offered no explanation for the crate he’d found on his doorstep one warm evening. A note had been propped atop the box, a note Fenris put aside after he’d carried the box inside. Maybe he could persuade Varric to read it to him. Once it was inside, he stood there, unsure whether it was wise to open it. A few moments of deliberation passed before he opened it up. It was full of fabric. A vast array of blue, green, white and gold adorned it. Curious, Fenris tried to remove it from its box, only to find that it was much longer than expected. He started to walk backwards, pulling at it until it was completely free. 

 

It was a tapestry of his island, or rather, the beach on his island. Blinding white sand stretched until it hit pure blue sky against a sparkling opal ocean. Despite its beauty, Fenris had to swallow a nugget of fear as he tried to figure out where it came from. He certainly hadn’t commissioned it and he didn’t remember telling anyone about it. He ran through a list of who could afford to buy this: Danarius, possibly Varric, Maria- 

 

_ Maria. _

 

He must’ve told her while drunk. It was the only way she could’ve found out. He gently stroked the fabric before going to find something to hang it with. Maria would never send anything that could hurt him. After a bit of searching, he found a hammer, a stool and some nails. It took a bit of balancing and a lot of cursing, but he eventually succeeded in fastening it to the wall in front of his preferred sofa. He grabbed some wine and flopped down, enjoying the fruits of his labour. He ignored the pang of loneliness as he took a swig. 

 

Then another. 

 

Then another. 

 

Until the wine took over and he slipped into sleep. Amid his wine-induced sleep, he dreamed he was walking down the beach of his island. Except he wasn’t alone this time. Walking along beside him, her hand in his and her long black hair dancing in the wind, was Maria.


End file.
